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You probably remember the years leading up to the nationwide smoking ban.\u00a0 It was oddly enough Ireland-home of the dingy pub, that first did away with smoking sections in bars and restaurants.\u00a0 Today it seems unspeakable that non-smokers and babies alike were once held captive in the local diner, forced to ingest a carcinogenic smog alongside their meal. \u00a0It is easy to look back on those days as less healthy time, an indulgent, old fashioned era, but\u00a0I think of them only in a positive light. \u00a0Those were the years\u00a0I discovered punk rock,\u00a0live\u00a0<\/em>punk rock-surrounded by clouds of\u00a0billowing nicotine no less.<\/p>\n

In the early 2000’s, I didn\u2019t smoke, but years before the ban took effect I\u2019d manage to concoct a very romantic idea of cigarettes<\/a>, one that I may shamefully still possess today.\u00a0 I could perhaps attribute it to the particular sect of middle schoolers that piled in cars after class, filled up the largest booth Arlington\u2019s Denny\u2019s had to offer, and chain smoked while downing bottomless coffee.\u00a0 They sat for hours, never ordered anything requiring a plate, and would most often leave without tipping, sometimes without paying at all.\u00a0 They left ashtrays exploding with crinkled butts in their wake, and though I didn\u2019t agree with their table manners I was transfixed by their tight black clothing, their angular haircuts, and the identical white skull<\/a> they all seemed to sport on t-shirts and book bags.<\/p>\n

These kids, punks though they were, remained oddly exclusive.\u00a0 They held court at Denny\u2019s, and were selective with their invitations.\u00a0 Perhaps I was too young, or didn\u2019t have the right outfit, or any cigarettes to spare.\u00a0 But they had something I wanted, yet would never acquire from them-nor from Denny\u2019s for that matter.\u00a0 They had subculture, a community, a tribe.<\/p>\n

The clan I lacked seemed as though it would never be found, at least not in Snohomish County.\u00a0 But it was waiting for me at Graceland<\/a>,\u00a0now El Corazon, a smokey club just off of I-5 in downtown Seattle.\u00a0 It had gone through many iterations as a nightspot in prior years-The Off Ramp, Sub-Zero and Au Go Go to name a few.\u00a0 Those who saw the venue in its pre-Graceland days were witness to Pearl Jam\u2019s earliest gigs, Nirvana\u2019s first Seattle show, and numerous sets from the likes of Mudhoney and Soundgarden.<\/p>\n

Though my time at Graceland didn\u2019t boast the same historical gravitas, on a personal level it is a fixed point in memory; the nucleus of an entire period of musical education.\u00a0 Mine wasn\u2019t a lesson in grunge, but punk rock, and it began on Valentine\u2019s Day in sixth grade.<\/p>\n

Up to this point, my introduction to punk rock had been piecemeal and happenstance.\u00a0 The older sibling model for cultural osmosis did not apply, because my only live-in sister was entrenched in the rave scene, which at 12 perplexed me.\u00a0 I wouldn\u2019t understand music sans guitars for years to come.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not certain what it was that drew me to punk initially – maybe it was that naive idea kids have that we can actually achieve individuality by adhering to a subculture, by wearing the uniform and honoring the customs.\u00a0 Or was it the rebellious allure of the Denny\u2019s set?\u00a0 Perhaps I just wanted to believe there was more to talk about than Pokemon and Beanie Babies.<\/p>\n

More than anything I suspect it was the clutch of a gnawing preteen anger that made punk so attractive to me.\u00a0 I felt at odds with my peers, simultaneously despising them and wanting their affection.\u00a0 I therefore needed a mode of aggression, a manifesto to legitimize my ambivalent rage.\u00a0 Punk seemed to be the only club accepting of such antisocial sentiments, a therapy that didn\u2019t ask why you were furious, but simply handed you the boxing gloves.<\/p>\n

Despite the driving emotions, my entree into punk music wasn\u2019t as badass as I\u2019d like you to believe.\u00a0 There was Sum 41, and Greenday, and Blink 182, and Rancid.\u00a0 The latter was casually recommended to me by Amy, the teenage shopgirl at my dad\u2019s mercantile.\u00a0 My long term love affair with Social Distortion<\/a> also came about by chance.\u00a0 My cousin\u2019s then-boyfriend was getting rid of CDs by the boxful, and among those disks was the band\u2019s 1998 release Live At The Roxy<\/i>.<\/p>\n

It was an album I played on repeat for months.\u00a0 To this day I can\u2019t put my finger on what it stoked in me.\u00a0 By later comparison it is nothing revolutionary-a pretty mild, straightforward rock n\u2019 roll record with a few f-bombs and a guitar solo backing every bridge.\u00a0 Maybe your first favorite band is more about timing and convenience than it is choice-like your first crush at school.<\/p>\n

Before Graceland I had been dipping my toes into punk; after I was fully submerged.\u00a0 According to an archive page from punknews.org, 2.14.2002 was in fact the date of my first punk show, which was a compilation gig embarrassingly titled: Punks vs. Psychos.\u00a0 The original bill was Tiger Army, Lars Frederiksen & The Bastards, Nekromantix, and the Distillers.\u00a0 The idea being that half of the bill were punk bands, and half psychobilly, a sped-up version of rockabilly with horror film lyrics.<\/p>\n